


I Will be Your Tim Drake for Tonight

by Offendedfish



Series: For the Record, I Told You This was a Bad Idea [1]
Category: Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alcohol, Batsibling being siblings, Blood, Crossdressing, F/M, Flashbacks, Good Bro Dick Grayson, Good Bro Tim Drake, Good Sibling Damian Wayne, How Do I Tag, If You Squint - Freeform, Kidnapping, Nightmares, OOC, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Protective Cassandra Cain, Protective Damian Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Tim Drake, Snark, Swearing, grammar, has been betad by someone tied to a chair, me complaining about infrastructure, minor alcoholism, not graphic animal violence, ocs are dumbasses, people get beat up, you're gonna have to squint alot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:35:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25844401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Offendedfish/pseuds/Offendedfish
Summary: Preferring to do anything but her physics project, Mila decides to accepts Tim’s proposal. It’s simple. He does her project, she tries to figure out whether Jason Sionis is criminal. Easy, right?orMy excuse to write Jason as Black Mask's heir and pit him against a really snarky dumbass.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & OC, Dick Grayson & Tim Drake & Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne & OC, Jason Todd/OC, Roman Sionis & Jason Todd, Slade Wilson & Jason Todd
Series: For the Record, I Told You This was a Bad Idea [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875331
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Building Interest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18500059) by [Zoeleo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoeleo/pseuds/Zoeleo). 



> The events and characterization in this story are very heavily based on Zoeleo's Long Term Investment series. It is fantastic and I really highly recommend all of her fics. 
> 
> a/n: For clarification, Mila does have psychic powers but it only lets her sense people's emotions physically. No mind-reading. Her power is more like an overactive sense of empathy which may force her to dissociate into someone else.

Mila's skin itched as she made her way through the crowd. It wasn't the suit. After, all Alfred Pennyworth was incapable of doing wrong. It was the sea of hands patting her back, petting her head, and pinching her cheeks made every inch of skin wants to slough off. Tim owed her. He owed her big time. Then again he's back at the manor tackling her physics project and making sure Gotham doesn't set itself on fire while Batman is on ‘vacation’.

She should be fine. It’s not like Brucie asked her to investigate a suspected criminal who also happens to be Roman Sionis’ heir. Nope, no pressure there. Thanks Bruce. She's clad in blue contacts, a black wig, make up, and a stolen suit. As safe as she felt in someone else's skin, she still felt like she was gonna fall over. Maybe it's because she was dumb enough not to bring her cane.

The room was dizzyingly full of people. Her mind goes haywire. Jumping from one mind to the next. Dipping into every emotion it could stick itself into. It was almost overwhelming enough for Mila to forget about the ache in her leg. She knew this night was gonna be far longer than she could stand. She needed a drink. Or 9.

"Hey, no drinking! You're underaged!" Dick nearly shrieked, plucking her fifth(?) flute of champagne. She wouldn't be in a few months. Really he was being quite unreasonable to the drunk person in front of him. Looking him dead in the eyes, she waves another server over and takes 2 flutes of champagne. "I'm fine Dick. I've drunken harder stuff than this."

" **No** ," Dick said firmly snatching the 2 flutes from her hand.

"Big bro pleeeaaasee" Mila drawls sweetly knowing Dick was a sucker for that move. Dick tries to look unmoved but she could see in the slump of his shoulders that he wanted to give in. "I'm having an episode" The word episode felt strange and wrong but their really was no other way to describe it. "and I don't have any painkillers on me." She added hastily. Dick's eyes harden trying to look stern.

"Fiiine-" Dick whines, resolve crumbling to dust. Handing back only one flute of champagne, he scolds: "Just don't get shit faced. We're here on a mission."

"Yes motheeeer," Without missing a beat, Mila downs it, feeling the tearing in her head beginning to fade.

"Jesus, calm down," Dick said taking the now empty flute from her. She is less than surprised by the fact that he isn't fazed by being called 'mother' at this point. It might just be the alcohol. The Powers might not understand the concept of fun but they sure do have taste in alcohol.

While Dick lectures Mila on safe alcohol consumption and Babs laughs unhelpfully, Mila feels the press of another person's mind. The other 2 seem to notice it too. Being pulled out of their reverie, they turn to greet them. "Target at 2'oclock" Babs whispers but Mila's mind had for some reason forgotten how English worked. Instead, it drifted to the simple mind coming closer to them. Almost too quickly, she dropped down to her knees. Her joints complained but she could feel her mind smooth as she placed a gentle hand on the dog's fur.

  
The dog whuffs with glee as if to say "Yes! There! Pat there!". Absorbed in the dog's uncomplicated happiness, Mila began to piece herself back together and the pain in her head receded. " Who's a good girl? You are! You are!"The dog yips happily. Its smooshed face pressing into her hand. Mila forgets the party until-

Dick coughs clearing his throat. The laughter is bright in his blue eyes. Mila, for the first time, notices the person beside the dog. It was their target, Jason Sionis, stretching out his hand to shake hers.

"Oh- Uh- it's just your dog- She's- Hi, I'm Tim Drake." She shoots up to shake his hand. She notices the patches of scabs and scars on his knuckles. She's pretty sure Dick or Tim could give him a run for his money if they didn't have makeup on. Though that just might speak more to their-as Damian puts it- incompetence. Her eyes flicker to Dick momentarily as he tries so hard not to laugh.

"Well, it was nice to make your acquaintance," Jason says flatly as he turns his attention to Dick and Babs for a more coherent discussion. She wasn’t entirely certain that she offended him but she was probably close.

She wants to say that it's his eyes that she notices first. They were a striking shade of ultramarine, a terrifying facsimile of the ocean. They made her shudder. She would have rather noticed how nicely he filled out his suit. The man was made of muscle under that well-tailored suit. She filed the image for further appreciation later. But, unfortunately, she is far too accustomed to checking her brothers for wounds for her eyes to not immediately flicker towards the scar on his face. It takes everything in her not to stare at the scar cleaving down the flesh of his cheek rigging the right side of his face into a permanent grin. Thankfully, he leaves them saying something about having business somewhere else. Sure, the guy falls into Gotham’s pattern of ruining your face and turning to a life of crime but so far he hasn’t really shown anything concrete. Plus, he’s really nice to his dog. No one that nice to a dog could possibly be the Red Death, Black Mask’s shiniest, and rumored to be his most brutal, new enforcer. Then again, her mother always did treat Anatoli like a king.

"Tim was right. You can act like him. You even got him shoving his own foot in his mouth down pat. Great job. " Dick chuckles patting her on the shoulder jostling her out of her thoughts. Mila sighs. "The next time I go undercover I'm going alone. I don't even know why you're here."

"I think you've demonstrated why."

Mila- annoyed, embarrassed, and feeling the marching in her skull coming back- jabs "Alright _Fabio_ , you befriend Mr.Pretty boy-" .

"That's pretty mean eve-"

"I didn't mean it to be mean-"She honestly didn't but she was byelingual at this point. "-I think he's pretty. Scars are sexy and all of that carp. "

"I am very concerned."

"You should be. I'm out of booze and the dog just walked away. " Mila hissed rubbing the side of her head before stomping off to look for more drinks.  
Mila feels her head jack rabbiting again. The staff had, as per some evil person's request (Likely Dick or maybe Babs), cut her off from the booze. She finds herself wandering around until her feet take her outside. The cool night air and the nearly freezing bricks soothe her warmed skin as she slides against it.

"What? Did you come out 'ere to watch my dog piss?" a slightly familiar baritone voice chuckled.

"As fun as that sounds, I just escaped Dick Grayson. I believe that, in itself, is reason enough to go outside and take in the 'fresh' Gotham night air. " Mila snarks, looking up expecting him to grin at her but was greeted with a look of concern. She's seen it before. Her hand almost automatically makes its way to her nose. She felt a thick liquid brush against the pads of her fingers. If she looked at them, she’d likely see them covered in blood. Mila shrugs and brushes her deep red sleeve against her face. She probably didn't get all of it based on the crooked grin on his face.

"Shit kid, they'll think I punched you." Jason chuckles good-naturedly. Mila knows he's not nervous. He’s charming enough to talk his way out of it.  
"Relax, Dick will likely say I deserved it if they do think you punched me but that is highly unlikely seeing these episodes are an open secret after I bled on Mrs. Yavorski's satin dress a few years ago. "

"Well, in that case, you want a smoke? Should take the edge off." Jason says it as a joke holding out a pack of cigarettes to her. Everyone knows Wayne kids are good kids.  
Mila, feeling particularly cheeky, takes the cigarette between his lip and takes a long drag, inhaling and letting her eyes slide close.  
He makes a quiet choking noise. Away from the sea of minds, Mila can feel his eyes on her. Wide and disbelieving. A cocktail of interest, embarrassment, excitement, and delight swirls in his mind. It might have been attraction or it might just have been amusement. She shouldn't be too surprised by the reaction. Tim is quite the knock out even when he looks dead on his feet. His confusion only lasts five seconds before Mila coughs out

"Christ, it's just as bad as Bruce said it was." She hands him back the cigarette laughing and coughing into her sleeve.

"So, did your brother tell you to apologize?" He says, clearing his throat not really looking her in the eyes. She can still see the faint speck of color on his face.

"Well, he didn't say it. He doesn’t really have to and I do have manners contrary to popular belief. Plus! In my defense, your dog is cute. "

"Lizzie is, isn't she?" Jason smiles patting Lizzie on her head. It was a soft gesture. Something she really didn't expect from a supposedly hardened criminal let alone someone raised by Roman Sionis. Mila crouches down to Lizzie's level and puts her hands on the dog's face. Lizzie happily nuzzles into her hands.

"You have a dog?"

" Depends, does Dick count?"

Jason snorts. "Do you ever think before you speak?"

"Not when I'm drunk and bleeding, no."

"How drunk are you?"

Mila mimes counting. "As far as Dick knows, I'm 1 to 2 flutes drunk. As far as the staff knows, I'm 7 flutes drunk."

"I should probably get you back to your brother then" Jason laughs, pulling her by the arm. She notices for the first time just how big his hands really are.

"No, I-"  
Gunshots. Pain. Panic. They ring in equal measure to Mila as a black van pulls up in the alley.

"Fuck! Box!"

A man in a dark suit crumples to the ground. She recognizes him. He was part of Jason's security team. In a flurry of movement, Jason's by his side. Mila thinks he's checking the injuries- which in her opinion is at once the smartest and dumbest move you could do in this situation- but he is in fact, checking for a gun.  
Gun in hand, Jason begins shooting at the men. Mila thinks to grab a stray brick or something but she knew her best chance was to crouch low and maybe convince Jason to do the same. But based on the murder radiating from him, that was highly unlikely.

Lizzie runs out in front of them to protect Box and Jason. It goes as well as expected. Lizzie whines into her touch. The tendrils of her mind desperately trying to keep Lizzie there. She wants to scream. Her mind surges trying to dip into someone else but Jason's anger and grief consume her. She wants to charge at them, rip their throats out, tear them limb from limb. But it's Jason who does it. His body launches forward faster than she could speak. The men in masks were just as fast. One of them incapacitates him with a well-placed metal pipe to the head. His whole body hits the pavement with one loud thud. Mila’s breath catches.

"There's two of them,"

"What do you mean there's two of them?"

"The boss said black hair, blue eyes, and a fucked up face"

"Did he say what kind of fucked up?"

"Not really"

Mila wants to squawk about how nosebleeds don't really count. Given, it is bleeding like it’s auditioning to be the next Niagara falls.

"Just take them both!" barks a rough voice from the van.

Mila thinks to make a break for it but fast as she is(not really). Her head was still ringing and she couldn't really take them out on her own.

Mila holds her hands up in surrender. "I'll go quietly. I know the drill. "

The men look at each other clearly confused by her cooperation but not really willing to question it. They slap cuff on her wrists and literally throw her into the van like a sack of potatoes. Not that they treat Jason any better. He looks dizzy and pale.

"Are you-" With a heave, he throws up on "her" shoes. She wants to laugh. She really does. She also just wants to cry.  
Tim is going to kill her. No, Alfred will. If she's lucky-which she never is- Dick will suffocate her with a hug before they ever get to her.  
Maybe just maybe, the kidnappers will do it.

Hopefully. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, I just wanna right henchman dialogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have no idea how formatting actually works.

The ride was less than comfortable. Outside the more affluent districts, Gotham's roads were atrocious, bumpy, pothole-ridden death traps. Based on how bumpy it was she suspected they were close to the docks. A minute into the death trap, she decided to pull Jason's head into her lap to cushion it from further damage. The problem was his face was still covered in vomit and now so were her trousers. This evening was gonna stretch on for an eternity. 

By the time she thought of the 19th way Damian was gonna tell her how incompetent she was, they arrived. The doors opened, stepped in, extracted them, and hauled the like sacks of potatoes. She looked over to Jason who finally stirred to what seemed like consciousness. "Hey, are you-" Jason snarls breaking free of his captors and launching himself at the man who shot Lizzie. 

They were down on the floor. Jason on top wailing on the man. His knuckles getting bloody. Logically speaking, she should stop him or at least try. On the other hand, Lizzie's death still stung. There was also a brutal efficiency to his strikes each landing where it would hurt the most. Wait. How the hell is he even out of his cuffs? She makes a mental note to practice getting out of her cuffs or to at least get pointers from him. 

It takes a surprising amount of time before they actually restrain him again. It was either from shock or they just really didn't like their coworker. The man on the ground is wheezing and bloody when another takes him away. 

They tie them to a post. She lets out a heavy sigh riggling against the rope. "You really do excel at being a pain in the ass, don't you?" 

"It's just my dazzling personality, sweetheart."

"Ah yes, the one that won you an all-expenses-paid trip to this wonderful Gotham warehouse."

"You're here too, dipshit." Mila opens and closes her mouth to protest, to say something snarky but he was right. She decides to stay silent. 

"You're worth a lot of money, right?" Jason asks, breaking the silence with a level tone.

"Uh, the guy I'm dressed up as is, yeah. Why?" "You're not Tim Drake?"

"According to my birth certificate, no. But they don't know that, so can it. " 

"You're going to die." Jason sighs on the opposite side of the beam. She can't quite picture his sharp features into something soft but she likes the idea. 

"Thanks, sunshine. "

"Unless you can pull a plan out of yer ass-" 

"I do have a plan." Kind of.

"Well let me hear it, genius." He jeers, tugging on the ropes so he can turn to her. From the corner of her eye, she can see him looking at her intently. 

"Sit here and wait." 

Jason blinks at her trying to process what she just said. "Great. Wanna make tea cozies while yer at it?" Mila's nose scrunches up indignant. 

"Still working better than yours. At least, I don't have a concussion!"

"Got any more salt you want to rub in my wound, Tom?" She can't see it but she can practically feel him roll his eyes. Mila full-on snort laughs at the comment. She definitely blames Dick for her affinity to shitty jokes. 

"Well-" 

"So which one of you is the Sionis kid?" the man asks pointing a gun at them. Mila and Jason try to look at each other. 

"Don't lie!" The man adds hastily. This is probably his first abduction. Mila felt kind of bad. Part of her even wanted to give him a few tips. 

"Brilliant idea. They'll definitely answer." The man behind him snarls rolling his eyes. 

"Shut up, Larry." The men continued to bicker leaving their hostages mildly bewildered.

What would Tim do? Tim wouldn't be in this situation. Wait. Yes, he would. I'm giving him too much credit. She decides negotiation is her best option. 

"He's the real Jason Sionis. " Mila says flatly leaning her head towards him. Jason looks at her incredulously. He looks betrayed but his face is too hardened and jaded for it to show fully. Unfortunately for both of them, Mila could feel it oozing off of him. 

"How do we know you aren't lying?" The first man says pressing the gun to her forehead. She can still feel the trembling in his hands. 

"I have my driver's license on me. My wallet. It's in my coat pocket." The man reaches in her coat pocket and pulls out Tim's wallet. Mila's skin begins to prickle uncomfortably from the close contact. 

" Ha! See. It worked."

" Yeah. Yeah. So what do we do with this kid?" 

"I can pay you to let me go!"

"How do we even know he's worth anything?" Someone shouts from faraway. 

"Mo's gotta pretty good point." 

"Did the $2000, puke-covered suit not give it away?" 

"Nah, it's the puke-covered $1000 dress shoes." Jason quips more venomously than she anticipated. His sarcastic grin was still etched with the barest hint of betrayal. Mila death glares him but she couldn't really tell him 'Don't worry I just need to call my vigilante brothers to help you.' 

"Ok, ok, those are also good points."

"Plus, haven't you heard of Drake industries?"

"What do you do? Make ducks?"

"No, you idiot. They- Never mind. How do we know you're good for it?" Larry hisses. 

"We really should ask the boss first." Mo pipes up again. As if on cue, a large man clad in black and a scowl that would make anyone wither. She vaguely recognizes him from one of the cases Tim was working on but no name comes to mind. Bryan? Brent? Something along those lines. 

"Let me call my dad. He'll even let you see him sign the check." Mila pleads as sweetly as she can. The man in charge looks at her making her shrink. On a good day, she is a decent fighter given she has her cane, she isn't sloshed, and the man she's fighting isn't built like a goddamn brick wall. Right now though eve as they untie her, she can feel herself trying to curl up. But as much as she wants to, she needs to make it out alive. If for nothing else than to spite her youngest brother.

"Please. Jus- just one phone call." Giving her another appraising look, he hands her the phone. Does he know? Are her freckles finally showing through the makeup? She shakes her head but the shiver doesn't go away. It's good for her acting she tells herself. 

The phone rings for a long time. She breathes deep listening to the dial tone. For her sake and possibly Jason's, she had to keep a level head. The place smelled of seawater. The building was big and barren with little to nothing in it. By the looks of it, it was one of Gotham harbors 'rare' abandoned warehouses. She looks around, making sure to fidget. It was dark but she could see a 13. 

"Hello, who is this?" 

Fuck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am a complete sucker for siblings being gremlins. This is extremely short.

Her stomach drops.

Fuck.

Of course, Damian just had to be the one to pick up.

"Hey baby bro, could you pass the phone to dad?"

"I'm sorry who is this?"

This little _shit_.

"You're such a kidder! Dami, it's me, Tim. "

“Ah yes, Drake-” Mila can hear Tim choke in the background. “What do you want?”

“Please Dami just pass the phone to dad, I- I really need to talk to him”

“Very well,”

“Tim?” The voice sounded like Bruce’s but the intonation was all wrong. The voice changer Tim and Babs were working on seems to have made progress.

“Hey dad, I- uh. I might have gotten kidnapped.”

Tim makes another choking noise. “ **Might have**?”

“I was at the party. I think I had around 13 drinks. 13! Can you believe it? I felt like a right sailor after that, like the harbor workers, y’know? Anyway, I was taking a smoke-”

“Enough!” The large man roared, snatching the phone from her. “Send us $100 million by tomorrow or your kid’ll be shark bait!” Who says that anymore?

“Of course! Of course! I’ll have the money sometime this evening. Please don’t hurt him.”Tim, God bless him, does not laugh. Tim’s acting needs some work but he sure does know how to act worried.

The line dies and they tie her back up to the post. “What the hell?!”

“We have to make sure you don’t just runoff.” The large man says tightening her bonds. Truthfully, she’s felt far worse. After all, corsets exist. However, this was still a close second.

“Do I look like I could outrun a snail?”

“He’s got a point boss. He looks like he hasn’t even seen the sun in ages.”

This, Mila decides, is true for Tim. When was the last time he went out before dark? Maybe he got sunlight when he stayed over at Eddie’s place.

The large man grabs Jason by the collar and throws him to his men. The 3 men kick and curse at him. They mock him and beat him down. They wail on him with their fists, their steel-toed shoes, and sometimes brick. Jason takes it all with a crooked grin and a sharp tongue. Mila watched in awe. Even on the floor, Jason looked sturdy, ferocious, and indomitable.

"They all break, sweet girl."

Jason is on a tiled floor. No, he should be on concrete. His blood is on the tile. They’re hitting him. They’re hitting him with a bat. No. They aren’t supposed to be holding a bat. They were kicking him but now they’re holding a bat. No, She’s holding a bat. There's supposed to be three of them, three men, but their forms coalesce into her. She can hear his ribs cracking. Next are his legs. His legs are always next. Then his arm. She'll break each bone in his arms and his hands. He’s wheezing. His voice sounds hoarse. His voice is too hoarse. He sounds like he’s been starved and dehydrated for at least a day. They’ve only been here for an hour. That isn’t right. Oh God! Now she had a cleaver in her hands.

No!

No!

He doesn’t need to die. She can’t. She can't.

no.

No.

No!

The scene crescendos as the tall, dark, sinewy silhouette towering over Jason raises the butcher's knife above her head.

“Harder, daddy!”

“Son?”

The scene of the kitchen fades and the shit-eating grin on Jason melts into view which shifts from amusement to confusion then back to amusement. Mila blinks seeing his stupid grin far too clearly. Mila lets a bark of gut-busting laughter out as she strains against the rope. Her brow pinches with concern but based on the scowls she’s receiving they're more focused on the fact that she was laughing like a mad man. Jason looks like he’s about to laugh from the absurdity as well when the man in charge picks him up again tossing him into a chair. The other men tie him down binding his wrists and ankles.

"I've had worse." He spits out.

The phone rings again, the dial tone echoing. Jason looks like hell with his face swollen and bruises beginning to bloom on every surface but he still looked like he was 5 seconds from starting a fight. The large man punches Jason hard in the gut knocking the air out of his lungs as the dial tone cuts off. “Hear that, Sionis? Your little bitch is pretty soft.”

Oh God, are they serious?

“Who is this? Nevermind. You ok there, sweetheart?” Roman Sionis’ ‘concerned’ voice carries over the line.

They are.

“Nothing I can't handle, daddy.” Jason chuckles with the utmost casualness. Mila, on the other hand, instantly wants to disinfect her brain. Thankfully, before her mind could wander somewhere it can't return from, the big man growls into the phone.

“Don't you recognize the voice of the man whose life you've ruined?!”

“You've gotta be more specific than that. I've ruined quite a few lives but I would like to know whose brain I need to put a bullet in.”

“IT'S ME BRUNO HARDIN!”

“Doesn't ring any bells.” Roman deadpans almost sounding completely disinterested. “Sweetheart, you remember anyone like that?”

“Nope,” Jason replies letting the p pop. It seemed like a strange sort of triumph before it all crashes down with another swift punch to the ribs. Mila stares at the strange scene torn between amusement and horror.

“Take this seriously!” Bruno roars.

"I'm taking this about as seriously as it deserves."

A part of Mila thought 'yeah this is ridiculous enough to warrant nonchalance' while the other part wanted to scream. On one hand, even Mila found his identity anticlimactic. Doesn’t he know just how many small-time businesses Roman has ruined? He’d be lucky to get into the top 50. It’s not like he was running a pretty ethical establishment either. On the other hand, your freaking kid is getting the shit kicked out of him. Emote damn it.

“Jason. Don’t you worry. Daddy’s going to take care of this. Your Uncle D happens to be in town. He’s on his way to pick you up. Love you, baby. See you soon.” The line dies. Mila's stomach sinks further somehow. She doesn't know if the nausea is due to the fact that the line died, the threat, or the number of times the word ‘daddy’ came up. Who the hell is Uncle D? How is he supposed to help? Her gaze trails to Jason who is now lowering his head to the floor seemingly tired. Maybe that last punch finally drained the fight from him.

“You're all so fucked.” Jason barks out in a fit of laughter. The men around him, jumping from the volume of his voice.

Bruno grabs Jason by the collar and begins to shake him as if the “Shut the fuck up you little bitch! Whoever your Uncle D is he's-”

“ _Deathstroke_ ”

Mila feels like someone kicked her in the chest. First of all, Uncle D? Really? Mila guesses that there are worse hills to die on. This was somehow weirder than hearing Faust and her siblings call him pops. Second of all, Fuck. She'd never gotten her ass handed to her by Deathstroke but based on how banged up the Titans looked after fighting him this wasn't gonna be pretty. All she could hope for was that she wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. Although, the image of Deathstroke grudgingly letting a kid call him Uncle D lightens her mood a bit.

Bruno throws Jason on the floor hard enough for his body to bounce. Like Jason earlier, Bruno is radiating murder. Just run, you thick motherfucker.

Mila being the ‘nice’ Wayne kid that she is she tries to tell him as much but sadly that was halted by shattering glass. A flurry of black, orange, and metal crash through the glass and cut through the crowd of men. They fire at him, panic making their faces even paler. They hit him, bullets sinking into his flesh, blood splatters but none of it fazes him. He skewers and cuts them down with ease. His swords and suit are liberally decorated with their blood when it’s all done.

He steps over Bruno’s body. From the grunt that comes out, Bruno is still alive. Dumb bastard doesn’t know how to play dead. He’ll die from blood loss anyway.

“Hey, kid-” Deathstroke greets tersely, picking up Jason’s nearly limp body. “We’re gonna get you home.” He slings Jason’s arm over his shoulder.

“Wait!” Deathstroke stops, sounding slightly annoyed. Jason turns to Mila who is still unhappily tied to a post. “We gotta get him out.” He rasps.

“Kid, you’re the only one I’m getting paid to rescue.” Deathstroke helpfully informs as he carefully adjusts his hold on the struggling young man. Mila blows out a breath somehow more irritable than scared. “Just cut me out. I can make my way back just fine.”

“Walk in Gotham, are you stupid?” Jason hisses. The concern bleeding through.

“Which one of us charged at their armed captors?”

Jason scowls at her with a petulant twist in his lips. “Yanno what, Leave ‘im.”

“Ok, ok, I’m sorry and yeah I’ll be fine. I know where to avoid. Just please don’t leave me with them” She pleads, throwing away any pride she held as she glances at the most likely dead bodies. Deathstroke cuts her out. Her skin feels raw but she’s otherwise unharmed.

They walk out of the warehouse and Dick practically throws himself at her. “Oh thank god, they didn’t shoot you in the head.” He mumbles into her wig. "Why would you think they would shoot me in the head?"

Dick pulls back and frowns at her through the domino mask. “You aren’t exactly the most pleasant-”

“ We were _model_ hostages.” She squawks. Jason snorts far too loudly to be helpful. She glares at him but she wasn’t about to say fuck off to him while he has one of the world’s deadliest assassins right next to him. Deathstroke coughs. “Well if you don’t mind we’ll be taking our leave.”

Dick holding Mila protectively, glares but says nothing. Maybe he does but she faints before she can hear it.


	4. Chapter 4

The car ride was awkward, to say the least, and disastrous to some unholy degree. Dick had insisted on calling her while she was driving, not really taking into account that she might need navigation on the way to the hospital. Moral support he said. She understands though. It wasn't obvious but all of them got a bit clingy when one of them was kidnapped. Dick was just the most obvious. Bruce scolded her. Alfred insisted she should rest but, in her opinion, 2 days was enough resting. Cass and Dick were practically koala bears when she got home. They probably held her for hours and even when her skin pricked, she let them. Tim offered to put a tracker in her favorite earnings which she declined because she didn't want to find out whether Bruce had already put trackers in there. Damian actually offered to go with her. It was sweet but she declined. She was tempted but she knew if she let Damian come with, Dick would insist on going then Cass then Tim then maybe Batcow or something. She had no intention of suffocating Jason. His bodyguard, Reggie, looked like he had every intention to suffocate her.

“Uh hi- I'm Tim. I-” I'm Jason's abduction buddy. But how does one say that without getting socked in the face by a man who can bench press 10 of you."I'm Jason's friend(?)." Mila squeaks with the utmost sincerity she can muster. Reggie's brow ticks up in response. Fuck.

Reggie leans down, getting in Mila's face. She could feel her skin begin to prick. If she was Dick, she'd be able to pirouette over this easy (or make it 10 times worse). "Reggie just let him in you fucking tightwad" Jason shouts from the other side of the door.

Mila slips in as smoothly as she could trying to hide her giddiness. "Hey pretty boy, you look like hell." She says with a light jovial tone almost saying it like a laugh as she nudges past the crowd of dogs. How the hell did they get dogs in here?

"Aw, you say that to all the injured rich assholes you meet!"

"I know Dick Grayson! I have standards." She protests handing him a bouquet of get well flowers. Jason stares at the flowers with a pinched brow, mouth twisted into something unreadable. "I'm surprised you wanted to talk to me again. " He says, voice wavering. "Most people don't react well to getting kidnapped."

Mila has been through worse but she still has nightmares about it. "I've- " She shrugs " Not your fault." She sits down to pet the dog nudging her leg. The dog by her leg looks exactly like Lizzie. Her heart sinks. It's not like he wanted to be kidnapped. Not like he wanted her to even be there in the alley. None of it was his fault as far as she knew. Her mouth pulls to one side not. It's pursed, deep in thought. She looks up at eyes bright and focused, unlike the last time they met. She looks at him dead serious as if she was gonna tell him something really important. Maybe she should say something meaningful like condolences for Lizzie or Is Box ok?

"Ok, fine, I wanted to see your dogs."

"Fuck!" He belts out laughing. "My ribs still hurt damn it. Don't make me laugh!"

"As a fellow rich asshole, I am offended that you did not expect that of me. " She really tries not to smile but something about how his rugged face tugs into a smile makes her chest warm up. And that laugh! Now in the quiet of a hospital room with only the whirring of machines as accompaniment, Mila could now appreciate the dulcet tones of his voice. It was rough from fatigue but it still sounded velve-

Shit. She sounded like Dick.

"I got you a get-well present by the way. " She sputters tossing him the bag realizing too late that that was probably a bad idea to throw things at a sick person.

"Again, you really didn't have to…." He said sheepishly. He opens the bag. It's a copy of Tales of Earthsea.

"I heard through the grapevine that you liked books,"

"You did, huh?" He asks clearly skeptical but amused by the lie. No, she found out through research. She really should have checked what kind of books he was into but he doesn't seem annoyed by the choice.

"Stalker," he snorts his face pulling into a cocky grin.

Mila liked this side of him as well. He was cute either way. She had to stop giving Dick shit about pretty faces.

"Thanks…"

"Mila. It's Mila."

“Here I thought your name really was Tom.”

“Nope.”

“You gonna tell me why you were dressed up as Tim Fucking Drake?”

Pulling out a pack of cards, “Depends how good are you at poker?”

He tilts his head making those blue eyes shine and gives her a heart-stopping grin.

Mila really hoped Bruce was wrong about him. If that wasn't the case, well, so much for giving Bruce shit about _his_ type.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Comments are free game. Also no, I do not know how formatting works.


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